[img]https://i.imgur.com/MMhK4f8.png[/img] & [h3]Jaelnec[/h3]

[i]“Angora?” Jaelnec's voice called out from the other side of the door, a hint of panicked uncertainty and urgency in his voice. The door trembled slightly, betraying that he was still holding its handle, ready to throw it open if he detected the need to do so.
More footfalls approached outside, more audible now that the door was partway open, though Angora was still mid-vomiting. These feet also sounded naked.
“You!” the voice of another young male exclaimed, which Angora might or might not, given their relatively brief acquaintance with one another, recognize as the voice of Thomas Remdal. “What in the planes did you do?”
“Me? I heard the scream and came running! I'm not –”
“You're naked and armed outside a girl's bedroom!”
“I thought she was in danger! I wasn't going to... wait, what in Stupor are you wearing?”
“Never mind that! The girl...”
“Yes!” The door opened another half an inch as Jaelnec seemingly refocused his attention on what he had been doing. “Angora? What happened?”[/i]

[hr]
 
“Like a knight to the damsel’s rescue…” Angora murmured under her breath as she climbed unsteadily out of the chair, the duvet still wrapped about her body. The adrenaline in her system had been almost spent, but still her movements were slow, deliberate, meticulous - in an attempt to remain calm after the ordeal she had just been through. It was a brief moment before Angora realised that, for at least the sake of allaying Jaelnec’s immediate concern, she should probably reply.

“Yes, it’s me. I, euh... I don’t know what happened.” She walked over to the door, and poked her head into the gap- [i]Oh my me, [b]that[/b] was unexpected…[/i] “Do you… want to throw a robe on, Jaelnec?”


Fortunately for Jaelnec Angora decided to speak up as she approached the door, allowing him a moment to realize that she was coming and cover the most private part of his anatomy just before she looked out. The irony was not lost on him that he was covering up his privates with a sword in his hand, practically replacing the visual of one with the other, but in the moment he was far from entertained.
Jaelnec looked back at her with eyes wide and face flushed with embarrassment.
Behind Jaelnec, Angora would see Thomas in what appeared to be a white knee-length cotton nightgown, complete with little frills along the neckline and at the hem of its sleeves. In his right hand Thomas carried his obscenely big runesword, its crystal handle filled with blue light as his magical energy coursed through it.

“Uh…” Jaelnec started, at a loss for words in the moment. “I… thought it sounded urgent…” He faltered, starting to slowly inch his way around - careful to keep facing the doorway - in an effort to navigate his way back to his room.

Angora’s own cheeks began to burn red as she hastily averted her gaze. “Well, uh, I mean, that depends on the definition of urgent. I’m not in danger, at least… I think - I hope. I don’t think I’m on the verge of imminent death, so we should be able to wait for you to get something on.” Angora blinked several times, a slight smile onto her face as she watched Jaelnec awkwardly stumble back towards his own room out of the corner of her eye. She shifted her attention to the other man… ah, what was his name… Thomas, that was it! Thomas Remdal. She waved sheepishly at him, making sure to keep one hand on the duvet preserving her modesty. 

“Oh, uh, hello there… Sorry to, uh, awaken you, I, um… I had a nightmare. Well, I don’t know if it was a nightmare or a… vision, of sorts I suppose? I don’t know how else to describe it.” 

Her head was still rather scatterbrained after the vision, whilst in her memory, she heard the voice’s haunting echoes still reverberating in her head. Angora backed away from the door, allowing the duvet to drop to the floor once she was out of sight, and she hastily grabbed a white robe from atop the dresser and donned it, wrapping the tie around her waist tightly, before heading over back to the door and opening it fully. Angora’s eyes fell onto the massive rune-emblazoned sword that Thomas was wielding, and she gave a reflexive nod in appreciation of it. It reminded her of the Black Sword in its manufacture somewhat - but she was also not entirely sure how he was wielding such a massive weapon with only [i]one hand[/i]...

“That’s, uh, quite the weapon you have there, sir.”

The second Angora disappeared from the crack in the door, rapid footfalls betrayed the urgency with which Jaelnec fled the scene, returning to his room in a full sprint now that he had established that no one was in immediate danger.

“Uhm, thanks,” the sixteen-year-old Thomas responded awkwardly, slinging the huge sword up to rest on his shoulder with the blunt edge down in an overtly casual way. Unlike Jaelnec he watched Angora eagerly and unabashedly, and he made no effort to conceal himself. It seemed that the awkwardness was actually for the sword rather than their state of dress.
“It’s a pretty standard runesword, though. Kind of like cheating. I -”

“You’re being pretty loud for this time of night, you know?” called a voice from down the hallway, announcing Olan’s approach. The older nightwalker came walking towards them calmly, remarkably fully dressed aside from his robe. Aside from a little bit of bedhead, Olan looked as though he had not been sleeping at all.
He smiled softly at the two of them there, a humorous glint in his eye, before his expression turned serious and concerned. “Did I hear you mention a vision?”

[i]Olan. Thank all the gods that he was here.[/i] Angora gave a sigh of relief as she watched him amble his way down from wherever he had made his own accommodation in the estate. If anyone would be able to explain what she had seen, it was him, surely? Perhaps he could determine whether it was just a nightmare, or whether it actually meant something more.

“I don’t know whether it was a vision or a nightmare, Olan. I was sleeping, and then I was transported to this… hellish landscape, it didn’t make any sense, there was no logic, no rhyme or reason... it looked like everything was all jumbled up in one place. I was… I was on a cliff. The sky above was all kinds of colours, green, red, black - and then I looked down into a huge valley, and saw these, these [i]things[/i], things I’ve never seen before and, gods willing, never in my waking life. But I wasn’t looking at those, not really - it was like my gaze was fixed on some… massive, uh… I think it was white, almost marble-like temple structure. It was on… It was on a mountain. The sky was black as night above it, and a huge battle of… gods only knows what… was swirling and coruscating below it, like a… like a sea frothing in some raging storm...”

Angora continued to describe the vision to Olan, trying her hardest to explain what she had seen, or witnessed perhaps is a better word, as best as she could, though the content of the vision was at times too confusing for her to paint a clear picture, particularly when she - or whatever she was witnessing - seemed to teleport from place to place. Having not experienced the dubious pleasure of teleportation for herself, Angora wasn’t really sure how to describe it, only that things just melted away before her eyes, and were swiftly replaced by a new vision. She stopped to draw breath before describing the serpentine incident. The horror of that vision was still fresh in her mind, and it proved difficult to vocalise how it looked, but she tried.

“There was a… serpent. A massive snake-thing, made of rock and bone and flesh, and whatever - whoever - I was watching, just obliterated it. It just… [i]fucking exploded[/i]. Excuse my language.” She glanced at Thomas. “And… and then, I heard a voice.” Angora fell silent once again, visibly struggling to bring herself to speak.

“[i]I thought I made myself clear.[/i]” The voice was not Angora’s. Her heart skipped a beat, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady herself against a wall. A terrible feeling of revulsion and overwhelming surge of fear enveloped her. It was the voice from the dream. She pressed on, regardless, hoping that it was just her, that nobody else could hear it. “[i]Nobody enters the oratory. Nobody but me.[/i]”

She opened her eyes. It was not just her.

Both Olan and Thomas listened attentively as Angora described her experience, simply curiously at first but soon with gradually growing concern. Jaelnec also returned mid-description, now wearing his pants, at least, though his torso was still bare, and stared in confusion for a moment until realization dawned on him that she was retelling a nightmare.
By the time Angora recounted the words she had heard, in the voice they had been originally spoken, no less, every eye among the three widened in shock. Olan swallowed, seeming a little queasy, while Thomas turned pale as a corpse.

“Well, until that last bit I was going to say that it was probably just a really bad dream, you know?” Olan chuckled, though for once his laughter was strained and somewhat mirthless. “That’s a neat trick, changing your voice… though for some reason I feel like I know that voice…”
“Uh…” Thomas was still staring at her, his eyes wide with fear and wonder. “What -, no, you just said you don’t know, didn’t you…” He looked at Olan and Jalenec. “What in the planes is going on here?”
Jaelnec just shrugged, being genuinely clueless as well, but Olan saw fit to offer a little of what they knew. “All we know is that she’s got something inside her that’s not supposed to be there. Not alive or aware, but… something.”
“Yeah?” Thomas remarked, sounding more frantic for each passing second. “Well, I’d be pretty damned concerned! What she just described sounds an awful lot like how people describe Hell, that giant serpent can pretty much only be Akronos, who is a [I]demon lord[/I] said to be [I]unstoppable and indestructible[/I]! And this ‘oratory’...”
He shook his head balefully. “The only ‘oratory’ I know of in Hell is the Oratory of Fate, which is where the Oracle is supposed to live.”
Both Jaelnec and Olan swallowed, reflexively taking a step backwards as the realization of what Thomas was saying hit them.
“Yeah,” the human nodded, “that’s what I’m saying. Reina’s tits, girl, I think you were inside Kreshtaat.”

“Kreshtaat?” Angora also took a step back. “Wait… how would that even be possible unless…” She glanced first at Jaelnec, and then at Olan, and then back into her room, where the Black Sword was glowing once again, bathing Angora’s bedroom in an eerie shade of purple. She took a deep breath. “The thing in the sword- in me. You don’t think it’s… connected to him somehow?”

All three of the male participants of the conversation performed simultaneous shrugs. “I don’t know…” Olan muttered, looking at Angora intently. “But I don’t see any other explanation. I don’t know how or why, but it seems there is some sort of connection between the two.”
“Kreshtaat!” Jaelnec muttered bitterly, punching the air in powerless anger at the entire situation. Once again the irony of using that particular swear at this time was not lost on him. “Why can’t demons and evil gods just leave my friends alone?! Why does everything have to be so damn complicated? Argh…”
“Either way there’s nothing we can do about it right now,” Olan sighed, prompting a still somewhat perturbed Thomas to nod in agreement. “And whatever this is, I don’t think it’s immediately dangerous, you know? Now that you’re not attacking people, I mean. And I don’t think it’s intentional.”
“Shit,” Jaelnec grumbled, still grim but no longer as angry as he had been. “I guess you’re right. Well…” He looked around at the dark hallway to either side, taking in the silence for a moment before turning back to the others. “It’s still night. We should try to get some rest. Are you going to be alright by yourself, Angora?”

Angora went to respond, but hesitated for a moment. She wasn’t actually sure as to the answer to that question herself - would she be okay? She was hardly relishing the chance to go back to sleep, that was for sure - after all, what if she was subjected to another of Kreshtaat’s sojourns in the hells - but she also didn’t want to impose herself on anyone, robbing them of any further sleep. “I, um… I’m not sure. To be honest, my nerves are still a little shot from witnessing Kreshtaat go on his little rampage… would any of you mind if I stayed up with one of you? I hate to impose myself on one of you like this, but if it happens again, I’d rather have someone with me than have to go through it alone again…”

Thomas’ eyes instantly lit up, a wide smile spreading over his face, his eyes darting up and down Angora’s form. “I can -”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Jaelnec growled, shooting the boy an angry glare. “I’ll stay with her. I won’t allow anything to happen.”
“If I may, I don’t think either of you are really suited for keeping a distressed young woman comfortable and chaste company through the night,” Olan pointed out, a different, humorous glint in his eye. “Ideally we’d ask another woman, but last I saw she was looking pretty deep in her tankard, you know? You can stay with me, Angora… or I can stay with you, whichever you prefer. I barely sleep anyway. And if you can’t sleep, I have lots of stories to keep us entertained.”

Angora rolled her eyes in disgust, but resisted the urge to walk over and slap Thomas for his lechery. Instead, she focused her attention on Olan, and nodded to his suggestion. “You’re too kind, Olan, but thank you. I’m sure those stories of yours will help put this out of my mind.” [i]For now, at least. And if… whatever it is… tries to take control of me again, at least Olan can talk to me, no matter what language he needs to speak in…[/i]